


Shared joy

by Morbane



Category: Chronicles of Narnia - C. S. Lewis
Genre: Constructive Criticism Welcome, F/M, Sibling Incest, Victory Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-22
Updated: 2016-10-22
Packaged: 2018-08-23 23:16:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8346655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morbane/pseuds/Morbane
Summary: Queen Susan and King Peter on their last evening in Narnia.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dancesontrains](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dancesontrains/gifts).



The great battle of Caspian's army was ended almost as soon as it was joined; but anyone who has been in a battle knows that its ending is a complicated thing. Peter's ears roared, the Telmarines roared, and the woods roared around them. As he dodged and struck, a minute, or two, or five passed before Peter realised the sound he heard was victory.

Then Queen Susan, gentle and dark of hair, stood before him, and his spirits lifted with understanding, and he straightened and kissed her in greeting, full on the lips, for kinship and gladness.

Back in their world it would have been improper. Here it was a solemn salute from the heart.

A laugh, a few words, a remark from Susan on Peter's bound arm, and then they spun away from each other. The surrender of the Telmarines required attention and organisation. Some had merely fled, and must be chased. The Wood had got into everything, One could hardly see the conflict for the trees.

*

In the evening, the Lion decreed a feast and revels. Susan and Peter sat together, far enough back from the fire that its strongest light shone on others, and did not dazzle their eyes.

"It's strange," Peter said, "isn't it? To watch on, when we once led the celebrations." He was watching Caspian. Caspian was surrounded, by his Nurse, and Doctor Cornelius, and dozens of others of his new and recent followers, who ebbed around him like waves rolling up and down a shore.

"We played that role, after Archenland's great campaign against the giants," Susan said, a little didactically. "We were hosted in Calormen." She caught his eyes, and conceded: "You weren't really thinking of that."

"I don't mind," the High King said firmly. "Caspian's a good lad - anyone can see that. And Aslan thinks he'll be a good ruler. I just wonder where it leaves us."

"Here," Susan said.

And when he looked at her - because Susan wasn't wont to be arch - she kissed him again. His sister's kiss, but also the kiss of his lover and Queen.

Then he kissed her back, and rolled closer. Then she peeled back what of his armour he still wore, and arranged his arm in such a way as to fuss over it and also as to stroke all over his chest and shoulder, and in the process bared her own breasts, and he pressed his face to her skin and breathed a moment before nuzzling all over the places she liked best.

They were in their own nook of darkness, Peter's cloak over them. The people of Narnia, Dwarves and Giants and Talking Animals, laughed and cried out all around them, but no one heeded them, and there was no need for shame.

"You went away to the wars so many times," she said. "Must I remind you what you always came back to?"

"The longer in Narnia," he said, "the more we remember all manner of things." His hand sliding down her hip made her sigh.

"Please, Peter," she said.

"Sue," he answered, in between kisses, but he drew out for a long time the moment before he answered with his body. Then the Queen gasped beneath him and drew him as close as she might.

Her dark hair, shoulder-length, was spread out below him. He remembered when it had fallen to her waist -and yet that same queen embraced him. It was not quite Queen Susan the Gentle who lay with him, but it was a queen and not a schoolgirl. She had answered him where he might find himself; if he asked who they were, he thought she would have an answer too.

But the joy of her, from Aslan and of her own, drove speculation out of his head. He drew cries of pleasure from her like a song from a beautiful instrument until his own greatest pleasure was near him. Then he found a place within her gasps as he had fitted himself between her thighs.

They had won.

Nothing could be further than term-time, and childhood, and dull exams. Nothing - and no one - could be closer than this.

If today the victory was Caspian's, then theirs was the peace - to rest, and rejoice, and remember.

*

In the morning, Peter woke to a sense of beautiful imminence, as though a wonderful party were about to begin, or perhaps some solemn ceremony. Susan was already awake, and looking at him. "It's Aslan, I think," she said. "We should go to him."

And they went to hear his counsel, holding hands.


End file.
